


Lost Causes

by starsinursa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, M/M, Sad, Song Lyrics, Technically the Major Character Death is only implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsinursa/pseuds/starsinursa
Summary: Dean is singing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a sad thing and I'm sorry, but I was singing _Hey Jude_ the other day and thought about how it's a little ironic and then I had to write it to get it out.
> 
> I'm also on [Tumblr.](https://starsinursa.tumblr.com/)

Dean is singing.

Castiel can hear it even over the rumble of the Impala. The sound is so surprising that he forgets to breathe for a moment. Not a good thing, considering breathing is difficult enough right now.

He’s heard Dean sing before, of course – loudly and obnoxiously to the radio, grinning, sneaking glances at Sam and Castiel to see if they’re laughing; quietly under his breath while he goes about a tedious task like cleaning the guns or painting the walls in sigils; desperately, as a distraction, on the rare occasions he’s forced onto an airplane or faced with a crying baby. But Dean has never sung to him, and that distinction is what makes his heart speed up.

Also not a good thing, since he’s losing a lot of blood at the moment.

_“Hey Jude… don’t make it bad… take a sad song and make it better…”_

Tears prick his eyes. He knows the meaning of this song. He had glimpsed this memory, along with thousands of other moments, when he had cradled Dean’s soul in his arms and lifted him from Hell. Similar to how Dean’s arms are around him now, actually. It’s ironic how some things seem to come full circle.

_“And anytime you feel the pain…hey Jude, refrain…don’t carry the world upon your shoulders…”_

Ironic. Castiel starts to chuckle.

Another bad idea. If breathing is hard, laughing is infinitely worse. There’s blood in his mouth and he coughs, painfully inhaling half of it into his lungs. It burns.

Dean’s singing falters and Castiel can see his face above him, upside-down as he leans over Castiel’s head cradled in his lap. His expression is strained and lined with anxiety, but confused. He’s uncertain why Castiel is laughing, Castiel suddenly realizes.

His throat works. “Jude,” he wheezes. He coughs, tries again. He doesn’t want Dean to be confused. “Saint Jude. Patron saint of… lost causes.”

Dean leans back abruptly. Castiel can’t see his face anymore, but he can feel Dean’s arms tighten like bands of iron around him. Dean is upset. Castiel shouldn’t have said anything, it was a stupid joke, he’s never been good at jokes, and now Dean is upset-

The coughing starts again, wracking through his chest, and the arms around him soften, bracing him. One of Dean’s hands presses against the wound in his chest.

His mouth is full of blood again, but he swallows to avoid spitting it out in the car. There’s enough of his blood in the car. He wishes desperately that he wasn’t going to die here, in the Impala, in the only home Dean has known for most of his life. He wishes he could spare Sam and Dean from having to scrub his blood from the seats after this is over. He wishes he had some of his Grace left, just the tiniest scrap he could use to scour his blood off the upholstery. He wishes that human bodies weren’t so messy when they died. But more than anything, he wishes Dean would start singing again.

Is this all dying entails? Useless wishing and new regrets?

When Dean starts singing again, Castiel feels like he could cry with gratitude. Dean’s voice is rough, scraped raw, but it’s the most wonderful thing Castiel has ever heard in Heaven or on Earth.

_“So let it out and let it in….hey Jude, begin…”_

Dean keeps singing. The Impala hits a bump in the road and they slide a few inches in the backseat. If Dean is back here with him, Castiel doesn’t know who’s driving. Probably Sam. 

_“…you’re waiting for someone to perform with…”_

Dean keeps singing. Castiel’s chest doesn’t hurt as badly anymore. He’s thankful to still be graced with some small blessings, though he doesn’t deserve them, hasn’t deserved them for a long time.

_“…and don’t you know that it’s just you…hey Jude, you’ll do…”_

Castiel is tired.

Dean keeps singing.


End file.
